


what a strange being you are

by peppermintyero



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: M/M, Mon-El is a little confused by his Gay Feelings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:23:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintyero/pseuds/peppermintyero
Summary: Humans, Mon-El decides, are stranger than he first thought.Especially human men.





	

**Author's Note:**

> since there are already like ten fanfics based around this exact scene i though 'why not more'.
> 
> also what is proper english lol deal with my mistakes

Winn is well and truly drunk by his fourth drink. His mouth curved into a permanent smile and his hands trembling slightly.

He looks soft and warm under the orange glow of the bar lights and Mon-El finds himself wondering if he should take him back to the DEO.

The smaller man (because Winn is a man. He’s not a child, he can drink as much as he wants) gives the bartender and courteous nod and downs his drink fast and in one breath.

“Watch out, you’re going to hurt yourself,” He jokes but Winn sticks up his nose and smirks.

“Sorry man, but I have a reputation to uphold as a Speed Drinker. If you don’t think you can keep up, let me know.”

He punches Winn’s shoulder and notes how he loses his balance for a moment.

Turning down a challenge made you less of a man on Daxam. Showed you as unwilling to battle

And this 5’9 light-weight was not going to get away with that.

So Mon-El teaches Winn the ways of a proper Daxamite.

Drinking copious amounts of alcohol is completely okay if you are in celebration.

“And what are we celebrating exactly?”

Mon-El smirks, tipping head. “A new found friendship.”

He takes a swig and let’s himself believe that Winn’s face didn’t turn red.

* * *

 

It takes about an hour for Winn to reach the point of drunk-ness that leaves him giggly and shaky and very, very loud.

Holy fuck, he gets loud.

He works his way down a line of shots and downs beers and nearly drops everything he picks up all in the span of 60 minutes and Mon-El has never felt more at home.

Winn’s eyes crinkle up when the pretty bartender lady tells him he’s looking good for someone who’s drunk enough for everyone in the bar and the same women later lets out a chuckle to a co-worker later while he goes to the bathroom saying that ‘it was nice to see couples like them having a good time.’

And they were a couple. A couple of buddies going out for drinks.

They talk and drink for a while longer. Mon learns that Winn used to have braces _(“You seriously don't know what braces are? Why am I surprised. You and your perfect alien teeth")_ and that he doesn’t like talking about his parents with strangers  _(“Not that I find you strange! Just not **not** strange. You get it?”) _ and that his favorite Halloween movie is Paranorman _(“It’s a play on words, because the main characters name is Norman. I don’t know, it's stupid but I think it’s funny. Oh, and there’s gay representation!..._

 _Did you have gay people on Daxam?”)_.

Mon tells him in return that Halloween had a lot of similarities to some Daxamite celebrations but by the time he starts naming them Winn’s eyes are fluttering closed and he falls asleep, face pressed against the window.

It’s not Winn’s most graceful moment.

He stares for a moment, taking in the fog from Winn’s breath as it climbs up the glass before someone calls him over for a round of arm wrestling.

And while he doesn’t know how in their right mind would wrestle with severed arms, he agrees.

He wins three rounds, snapping the radius of his last opponent and shattering the wrist of a wolf-masked man. Winn is quick is usher him out and as they reach the door a voice calls for a round two.

Mon-El nearly agrees before Winn takes his hand and they bolt into the empty streets.

Winn is unsteady on his feet. His scuffed shoes dip into pot holes and he stumbles, but never succumbs to falling.

Mon-El wouldn’t have let him fall anyway. He would’ve caught him.

A taxi is pulled over at the end of the stretch of road and Winn releases his hand to flag it down.

The night air is suddenly stiff and cold.

Winn’s cheeks are flushed and his breath panted as they clamber into the cab. Mon-El catches the driver raise a sceptical eyebrow from the overhead mirror.

“Where we headed boys?”

“Uh, just up to Columbus Street, near the library?” Winn rattles off the destination of a place unknown. Mon doesn’t question anything, just fiddles with the flimsy seat belt material.

And he watches Winn. He’s still catching his breath and he’s still very-not-sober. 

It’s peaceful. Like the calm before the inevitable Hank storm they’ll both be hit by when they go back.

The radio plays a song that rivals the lyrical absurdness of the music they were playing at the bar.

Mon-El almost makes a joke about it before noticing how Winn’s lips (still shiny from drinking) ghost along to the words.

Earth music, Mon-El deduces quickly, is a lot like Winn in a lot of ways he doesn’t really understand yet.

But he’s still sure of it.

The cab pulls over at a quiet street and Winn hands the man a crumpled bill from his back pocket with a nod and nearly falls face first in a gutter as he exits.

So Mon-El does the gentlemanly thing and places his hands on either side of Winn’s hips, balancing him.

Winn’s back on his feet in a matter of seconds. A little too quickly.

Mon-El runs his palms over the fabric of his pants. _Was he sweating? Why was he sweating?_

“You ready to face the beast?” Mon-El jokes but Winn doesn’t laugh, just scratches behind his ear.

“Oh, well I don’t live at the DEO. I live, like, twenty minutes away. I was just gonna go home for the night. Walk it off, yaknow?”

Mon-El doesn’t understand how he can even think about walking home intoxicated this late at night.

“Walk? Like this? You look like you got hit by a pack of Drangs.”

Winn blinks, trying to decode something in his head before reaching into his pants pocket, pulling out a set of keys.

Mon-El notices the House of El keychain, brightly colored and metallic attached to the metal ring, and ponders how he got his hands on it. “I’ll be fine, really. I like walking at night. Gives me time to think.”

 _Think about what?_ Mon-El wants to ask. But he doesn’t, he just smiles.

Mon-El doesn’t understand a lot about humans yet but he understands that Winn doesn’t want to spend any more time with him and he has to respect that.

And he tries so hard to pretend it doesn’t hurt a little.

“But I’ll see you tomorrow. After I’ve eaten some greasy food and downed some Aspirin.” Winn punches Mon-El's shoulder and he doesn't even feel it. But he rocks back on his heels to give Winn a moment of drunken satisfaction. 

There is a moment of silence were Mon-El imagines an alternate earth. One were Winn changes his mind straight away and they spend the rest of the night running from the DEO, telling secrets and hiding in the darkness like he used to do with the boys from his school house back home.

Instead he lets Winn go.

And he lets go of the sinful thoughts he was definitely not having.

His mother would be ashamed. 

He sneaks (loudly walks) back in and is caught almost straight away by Alex and Hank.

But Winn is home. Safe. Probably asleep.

 

So Mon-El is content.

 

 


End file.
